2006-01-12 - 4:03 p.m.
Nuzzle nuzzle
So I get back from 12th night on Sunday, after picking up Elena and then dropping off the Nealsons at their exclusive private gated community, (also known as Umstead State Park)
I got home around 10:30 or so. At around 11:45 there is a knock at my front door, which surprised the dogs as much as me, (way to go guys, so much for your “canine supersense.”)
I open my door to find Dude, the strung out crackhead/stoner. He is a white kid, probably 19 or 20, long hair, baggy pants, “call central casting and ask for white inner city drugie,” type.
He is also cold and pathetic looking.
“Hey man can I come in and use your phone, it’s really cold out here”
If you’ve been to my place, you’ll understand the humor in that request. (I don’t have heat or a phone)
“Come on in, but there’s no heat or phone”
He looks dazed, and doesn’t even react to my big dog Mokie who jumps up on him and sniffs a bit. (Mokie probably outweighs him)
He says that he and his friend were in an accident and needs to call someone to get them.
I ask him where the accident was and if his friend needs help,
“That way man, f*ck, (pointing towards the tree line) and f*ck if I know where he f*cking is man, f*uck, he just f*ucking took off”
As a former user of the f-word I have to say that I was impressed with his usage, and the dexterity and frequency at which he was able to insert it into just about any phrase.
I should add that this is the stoner usage of that epithet “Like, fuuuuuu*k dude”
Not to be confused with the Mafia usage “F*ck you, you f*cking f*ck!
*The remainder of this story has been removed for privacy purposes. If you’d like to read it, (and I know you), e-mail me and I’ll send it to you.*
-Justus
